Atanaria
Just in time for Mother’s Day, Netflix delivers a warm, comforting cinematic hug with Nonnas, a soulful celebration of food, family, and the irreplaceable bond between a child and their mother — or, more fittingly here, their nonna. Directed by Stephen Chbosky and written by Liz Maccie, Nonnas is the rare kind of film that feels like sitting down to a lovingly prepared homemade meal: nourishing, nostalgic, and made with heart.
Based on the real-life story of Joe Scaravella, played with surprising tenderness by Vince Vaughn, Nonnas follows a grieving son who channels his love for his late mother and grandmother into an audacious dream: to open a restaurant where grandmothers from around the world — not trained chefs — run the kitchen. It’s a touching premise, but what makes this film truly soar is its unwavering belief in kindness, memory, and the idea that it’s never too late to start something beautiful.
Gone is the snarky swagger of Vaughn’s Wedding Crashers or Swingers days. Here, he embodies Joe with a quiet sincerity, portraying a man desperately trying to recreate the warmth of his childhood kitchen, where the scent of simmering sauce and the sound of laughter were constant companions. It’s a heartfelt performance, grounded and vulnerable, and it anchors the film in emotional truth.
Joe’s journey isn’t a solo one. He recruits a lovable band of nonnas, each with her own heartbreak, humor, and hidden spice. Brenda Vaccaro, Lorraine Bracco, Talia Shire, and Susan Sarandon are absolutely luminous — a dream team of seasoned actresses who imbue their characters with grit, grace, and a lot of garlic. Vaccaro’s Antonella, who still talks to her late husband, is especially moving, while Sarandon’s Gia brings a sassy edge that lights up the kitchen.
Joe Manganiello brings his usual charm as Joe’s skeptical but loyal best friend and contractor Bruno, adding another layer of heart to the ensemble. Linda Cardellini, Drea de Matteo, and Campbell Scott round out the cast with memorable turns that flesh out the world with humor and tenderness.
But the real star here is love — not romantic love, but the kind that spans generations, the kind that lingers in recipes passed down on stained index cards, in stories told around the dinner table. The film lovingly recreates the process of building Enoteca Maria, the real restaurant Scaravella founded in Staten Island, and Chbosky’s direction treats every plate of pasta like a sacred ritual. The food cinematography is as luscious as anything you’ll see on a high-end cooking show, and by the time the credits roll — featuring real footage from the actual restaurant — you’ll be hungry in every sense of the word.
Nonnas doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is: a sentimental, sincere, slightly old-fashioned crowd-pleaser. And thank goodness for that. In an age of ironic detachment and high-concept cool, it dares to be warm. It dares to care. It reminds us that food is memory, and memory is love — and that sometimes, the most revolutionary thing you can do is gather around a table and feed someone from the heart.
If you’re lucky enough to still have your mother or grandmother in your life, call her after watching this movie. Better yet, cook together. And if you don’t, Nonnas might just feel like a hug from the ones you miss the most.
Nonnas is a heartfelt, flavorful love letter to matriarchs everywhere. Prepare to laugh, cry, and crave a plate of spaghetti like never before.
